Jolly the Giraffe

Jolly the Giraffe - pattern from Crafty Creatures by Jane Bull

Remember the lovely purple dress I took the scissors to so I could use it to back my chevron crochet cushion?

I am still making things out of the dress scraps, and, this time it is something to give back to the original wearer.

Mum has just been up for the week, on `Grandma duty', while my back recovers after surgery (am now into the sixth and final week of not picking up Charlotte - hurray!). It has been lovely (having Mum here, that is - not picking up your own baby is as frustrating as you would imagine it to be).

We made quite a few things between us - some finished projects which I'll post about in time, and others that are still works in progress. This giraffe was one of several things from a book Mum bought with her - Crafty Creatures, by Jane Bull. I can definitely recommend it.

No prizes for guessing where the pictures were taken. Well, it would have been rude to let Mum go home without at least one trip to my favourite place for cake, wouldn't it?

And while we tucked into our treats, Charlotte chewed her way through each of her giraffe's limbs. Very soggy. But she most definitely likes her new toy - and so gone is any guilt I may have had about cutting up her beautiful little dress. It is bringing her more pleasure this way than if I had kept it in a box for her to bring out and glance at when she is grown up.

And that is all I have time to say today. Soon the girls will come bouncing home from school, and the chaos begins again. Yesterday, inspired by the book Mum gave us, we started making three little ponies. On a whim. I think our house is a mad house. Most parents in their right mind do not decide to embark on a crafty project after school just because their children have spotted something that `might be nice to make'. But, dinner was in the oven (my new favourite lazy but surprisingly healthy dinner of roast chicken and jacket potatoes), and all was calm. More about that when we have something finished to show you...

Scruffy Cat Pencil Case

The back is recovering pretty well. Not as quickly as I'd like (meaning I am not yet running round the park and the actual area where the surgery was gets sore if I do too much) but doing okay. I haven't needed any painkillers whatsoever for over a week now, and, I can put my socks on myself without needing my four year old to help me. 

And now that my leg doesn't feel like it is going to explode each time I sit down, using my sewing machine is an appealing prospect again.

This pencil case is not going to set the sewing world alight, but, it seemed to make the three year old birthday boy happy when we gave it to him. He likes cats, fluffy things and the colour blue.

Children with birthdays so close to Christmas are always tricky to buy for. I find this with our own little Elizabeth (who has her birthday on New Year's Day). So, having asked his mum what he might like, the reply was a set of felt tipped pens. Small things - like owning your own set of pens and not needing to share your sister's - count for a lot when you are the youngest.

The birthday boy had requested we all came to his party dressed in his favourite colour.

In a pleasing, `I have just the thing' moment (thanks to my friend, Iciar), I offered to paint everyone's nails blue. The girls LOVED this. It was the first time they'd had their nails painted by me - the treat had an unexpected bonus as they sat super still, patiently waiting for their nails to dry for an entire twenty minutes. Needless to say I will be tactically offering to paint their nails for them all the next time I feel the need for them to all calm down and give me some peace and quiet.

The middle girl particularly enjoyed the sight of her brightly coloured nails for the day - and at the end of it, she and I struck a bargain. I have agreed to repeat the experience next weekend if she practises her reading with me every day this week. And, if she tries extra hard and gets to ten reads, I'll do her toes, too. I don't really go in for girlie girlie stuff with them, but, well, sometimes (especially with the middle girl) pragmatism works better. Whatever motivates her to read without an argument or chasing her round the house with her reading book...

The Creative Itch

drilling bits of wood for this year's Christmas presents for the girls

Will I ever learn, I wonder. Sometimes, I get a flash of inspiration in my head about something, and before I know it, I have convinced myself it is a Truly Brilliant Idea. Depending on how strong the Creative Itch becomes, I will not rest until I have scratched it. It can lead me into situations that, to my poor husband, and other people who may happen to come into my path, are well, quite ridiculous. (Incidentally, the art of being a decent husband to someone suffering with a Creative Itch problem is to know the difference between when to indulge and say `Well done, darling, that's lovely' in response to finished projects, and when to gently call a halt to them by saying something like `Woman, are you insane?').

Like drilling bits of wood in the hallway whilst wearing one of my favourite skirts. In my defence, it was freezing cold and wet outside, and, as I was a mere half hour away from greeting my sewing class, I couldn't justify wasting time changing into old clothes.

Luckily, nothing went too badly wrong (if you ignore a couple of holes in the wrong places), and I managed to get the floor hoovered before people arrived. Just about. And, not without a large helping of grumpy crashing about as I cleared up and felt the effects of my entirely self-induced stress as time ran out before the possibility of the doorbell going and needing to answer it became a reality.

Today was the day I had said the girls could each invite a friend round to play. Believe it or not, I usually like doing this, as, providing I let each girl have a friend round, there are fewer arguments as they are really happy that they have their friends to play with.

But, along comes the Creative Itch and the desire to encourage them all to get stuck into making something. Let's all make Christmas crackers, I suggest. They all leap at the opportunity. And, I think they all had fun, and left the house clutching a (still soggy from too much PVA glue) cracker.

In my head, I am a cross between a Blue Peter presenter and Julie Andrews, who can handle the competing demands of half a dozen children all asking me to help them stick and tie things at once and break into song whilst doing so. The reality is that I am a idiot.  I will never learn that messy craft activities with small children normally only ever end one way, and that is, with me inwardly wanting to run from the room screaming (only to return when they have all gone home and the fairies have been and tidied up the mess) whilst trying to fake a calm tone of voice with the children I have invited to wreck my house for me.

Baking is another example. One child `helping' can be quite enjoyable. More than one child, rarely so. Now, baking on my own, with no time pressures or children passing wanting to join in is just bliss. Maybe next year I should reign in my Creative Itch, and pick my moments a bit more wisely.

Today though, I am off to bed happy - in part, because I have done several creative things. The girls' Mummy made present requests are complete; we've all got home made crackers to pull tomorrow (a first in our house), and, a final batch of mince pies have been made (and the mince meat is now all used up).

The husband is happy too. For the last week he has been obsessing about ham. He's asked just about everyone he has come across about difference between gammon and ham, and how best to cook a Christmas ham. Another first for our household.

And here it is, the reason we are only just going to bed (makes a nice change from me being the one holding up bedtime on Christmas Eve - my sewing was finished ahead of this ham).

Happy Christmas, everyone. I hope you have a great one!

Wondering where the time goes

I often get to the end of the week and wonder where the time has gone and what on earth I have done with it. In my head, it is mostly sucked up with washing up, laundry, changing nappies, feeding the baby, making packed lunches, wiping down work tops, nagging the girls to pick up their things, walking backwards and forwards to school... you get the idea.

It's only flicking through the photos I have taken in the last week that I realise it was a pretty productive one the creative front. (In case you were wondering, yes, not much more than a slice of toast gets buttered around here without a picture being taken. He, he.)

There were the makes that happened with the girls. Like a robot costume (cardboard box covered in foil and smothered in random stuff from their art cupboard) and a tree outfit (brown leggings and cardigan with leaf shapes loosely sewn on) for the school disco. Oh, and sparkly chocolate cakes.

the big knit 

And the (very random) makes that happened alongside the girls as they got on with things they wanted to do. Like bobble hats for drinks bottles. And super hero capes to take to parties.

The other makes needed more time, and mainly happened after the girls were in bed.

The Fondant Fancy purses were the first things to be finished.

One was a birthday present to my niece, and the final hand sewing was finished in the car on the way to see her, so no picture of that one. Nothing like cutting it fine. But here's how the rest looked.

As I am forced to admit I do not need all these little purses in my life (much as I love the frames and Japanese fabric), these are all destined to be presents.

Wrapping on a budget - tissue paper (10p from art shop), pack of purple trims (£1 from Poundland)

When I have enough time, I love giving people home made presents. I enjoy choosing things that I think suit them, and I like thinking about them as I make their gift. But, when time is limited, much of this pleasure can turn into stress, silly mistakes and then general grouchiness on my part. That's why my Christmas making list is now always tiny - just one thing for each of my own girls and nothing else.

But birthdays - well, they are spread out, aren't they?

That said, I like having a few quick to make projects up my sleeve for when a run of children's party invitations come flooding home from school. The super hero cape made its way to a little boy who loves dressing up and jumping off sofas. And the covered notebook was coupled up with a pack of felt pens for the biggest girl to give to a friend. She and her friends have hit an age where stationary is a welcome thing, and so this quick make will no doubt be repeated a few more times.

I'd first made some covered notebooks at the start of the summer - in a not very subtle bid to encourage a bit of writing to go on. It worked. Sort of. I'd love to boast that the books were filled with miniature novels by the end of the summer, but alas, the novelty was short lived. They all still use these books for drawing in, though. I'm glad they have them, as they are more likely to survive the regular rounds of clear ups and recycling than scrappy bits of paper.

This week, it seems everyone in the household is tired and ready for half term. (Well, maybe except for baby Charlotte. How can someone who sleeps most of the day and night possibly be tired, huh?) Judging by the amount of shouting, growling and races down the stairs to be the first to tell tales after a squeal is heard from the girls' bedroom that all happens several times an hour (oh I wish I was exaggerating), they are in need of some rest after a busy couple of months at school.

I know (or, I hope) that once half term starts, and they have had a couple of days of doing not a lot, calm will be restored. They will be nice children again, and not just the temporary angels their teachers see each day. Until then, I am going to have a good sneaky flick through their notebooks and remind myself that they aren't really imps. 

Disco dancing baby

Okay, so I spoke too soon.

Made by Amanda

I was woken up at around 3 am last night by what can only be described as a baby trying to disco dance its way out of me. Is this it, I wondered.

After a good twenty minutes of trying to get back to sleep, I gave in and plodded downstairs to watch TV. Clearly the baby does not want me lying down, I thought.

Just as well the Wimbledon highlights were on to keep me entertained.

So still no baby. Not that I am wishing the time away. Although, keep up the Saturday Night Fever act and I might serve an eviction notice. But not until the husband is safely back from a wedding reception in London for the night. Now would be a bad time for the baby to come.

So I am spending my evening in a very sedate way, on the sofa, doing a bit of crochet. I am up to my tenth square out of sixteen for the front of a cushion for the front room. I've decided to make all the blocks the same - mainly because that was the easiest decision to take. Although I am about to run out of the green wool and will need to head back to John Lewis for more if I am to complete the cushion. Will I finish it before the baby is born, I wonder? Oh the drama.

Wouldn't it be convenient to have a bit of predictability about when babies might arrive?!

A bit more waiting means I will be more rested, baby will hopefully have chance to fatten up nicely (I do love a good pair of wobbly squeezable baby thighs), and I can continue to enjoy doing some of the things I'll be unlikely to have time for a while once baby does appear.

If baby does take a while longer to appear, I will buy extra wool on top of that needed for the cushion, and try making my own versions of the gorgeous little hat and booties given to me by my friend Amanda. Aren't they lovely?

This week, the littlest girl was invited to her first birthday parties in her own right. Cue a couple of birthday t shirts from me, and excited talk from her about party bags and sweeties.

I've enjoyed doing some baking and getting friends round to share the results...

Vintage tea set given to me by the lovely Mrs B

A shamelessly proud parent moment, but look at this lovely picture that came home from school from the eldest girl. I wasted no time in sticking it in a frame and putting it on the wall.

Having my children's artwork throughout the house makes me happy.

That is all for now. I might finish square eleven and then head to bed...

And, breathe...

I now understand why some people refer to moving house as one of life's most stressful experiences.

Whilst I still think there are far more stressful things people have to endure - I am very relieved to report we have exchanged contracts and consequently have a fixed date on which to move. At. Long. Flipping. Last.

This week has been a bit up and down, waiting for exchange to happen. I took my mind off the process on Friday afternoon with some baking, and got a friend round to share the results with me. Anyone else find that a Victoria Sponge and cup of tea improve a situation?

I could rant about the process. And, I must admit, I did, whilst my friend was round. Thanks, Annabel!

But, right now, I am relieved and happy with my lot. Okay, so the moving date has shifted. Four times, by my count. The uncertainty has been frustrating. But, we are moving.

Hopefully, the residents of my mobile nursery can hang in there for a little bit longer. Slightly obsessive, crazy plant lady? Yes, I think that is what I am turning into. But, in my defence, I thought we were moving at the start of April, and, now I have bought these little lovelies into the world, I cannot bring myself to chuck them into the big green bin for the council to come and collect and turn into compost.

I'll be sad to leave our house. I really, really like living here. Three of our children have been born here, and the place holds many memories. We've had regular clear outs over the years, in order to avoid moving. But, with baby number four getting ready to join us, the time has come to move on. 

What am I most excited about?

Toilets.

We currently have one. It's upstairs. We've gone through potty training (three times) and the challenges involved. But now, the power struggles (mainly the middle girl hogging the loo when she knows one or both of her sisters are doing a jig waiting) and post school dashes upstairs and regular puddles on the bathroom floor are about to become a thing of the past. And that is a happy thought that wins over any cross thoughts I may have about how annoying parts of the moving process so far have been.

With three weeks to go, bring on the boxes. You don't scare me. 

And heck. Now there has been a last minute delay, I think I have time to make that silk polka dot dress before the move. But first, there are sparkles to be sewn onto a birthday dress for the middle girl in time for Thursday. Four days and counting, Mummy. 

Three cheers to the sun shining and it being a bank holiday weekend.

Hope you all have fun.

Proud

Yesterday is a day I hope I remember when I am a little old lady in her eighties. In fact, I hope it brings a big smile to my face much sooner than that - like maybe on the mornings when I have spent more hours awake with a newborn than asleep, causing me to feel a tiny bit bleary eyed and grumpy with the world in general.

Bike Bucket tutorial by NoodleHead

Not one, but two of our girls cracked that childhood milestone of riding a bike without stabilisers. Woooooo-hoooooo!

I am full of pride about this fact. And, so are they. Indeed, any person who has held a conversation of more than a sentence in length with any one of us in the last 24 hours is probably well aware of just how excited and proud we are all feeling.

It has been a long time coming. Or, at least it has felt like that. Especially for the six year old, who seems to have had a bike forever, watching as each of her friends ditched their stabilisers and sped off into the distance.

Yesterday was their turn. The eldest one did it first. Taken out to the park by Daddy, who vowed they weren't coming back until they had it cracked. Half an hour later, I had a call from a very excited pair. And then it was the middle girl's turn.

The sight of them peddling about with big grins on their faces has had me jumping up and down cheering in the middle of the street. Funny thing, being a parent. Right now, I am struggling to think of anything I myself have done recently that has made me this excited and proud.

Last summer, after spending an afternoon watching the Olympic time trials on TV, the girls and me had gone out the back so they could get on their bikes. It was the middle girl who was keenest. And, faster than her big sister. And she knew it - "I'm Bradley Wiggins, and you're Chris Froome", she'd taunt as she peddled past her.

On that day, as the eldest girl was moaning that she didn't have a basket or toy seat (as the middle girl Bradley was smiling as she painstakingly spun out the process of strapping her teddy into the pink toy seat that came on her bike), I promised  her I would make her her own special basket when she worked out how to ride without her stabilisers. I had hoped this would motivate her, but, on that particular day, it just led to more grumpy complaining.

More time passed, with a fair few bike outings ending in frustration and impatient clashes between mother and daughter, her bike firmly returned to the garage with neither of us in a rush to get it back out again any time soon. Anyone would think we have similar temperaments and are capable of winding each other up as a result. It is just as well they have two parents, really. I am happy - and grateful - that Daddy was the one to get them to this important milestone in their little lives.

So, here are two bike buckets. I let them each choose the fabric they wanted (from what I had in the house) and set about fulfilling my promise. It's the least this ridiculously proud Mummy could do.

As for them, they are delightfully proud of themselves. They cannot wait to get out on their bikes - even to the point of rushing to be ready for school early enough to get out on them and peddle to school.

And that Olympic legacy we all like to refer to so much is real. When the middle girl fell off her bike yesterday, she got straight back on. "That's what the man on the Olympics did, Mummy." So it was, I thought.

Dear British Weather...

I have just returned home from the swimming pool with the littlest girl - and now it has started snowing. Really?! Come on. It is March. 

Easter bunnies made a couple of years ago - and rediscovered by the littlest girl during our most recent trip to the loft. Needless to say they have been rescued and bought back downstairs to live in the house...

After a couple of sunny days last week, on which some of us braved the school run without coats, our hopes had been raised that spring was properly on its way, along with thoughts of Easter bunnies and daffodils and the like. (And chocolate eggs, too)

So, please, I am asking you nicely, bring back the sunshine. Some of us have packed our gloves, hats and scarves away already. That is all. I'd be most grateful if you could.

And, moving on from the slightly absurd address to the weather, the weekend. How was yours?

The biggest girl went to a party, all on her own. How grown up. And, nice for all involved. Quieter house for a couple of hours, and she came home with a huge family sized slab of birthday cake to share (thanks Emily).

Inspired by the World Book Day shenanigans of last week, we went for a copy of the girls' current favourite book as a present, along with a birthday t shirt for the birthday boy, as requested by the biggest girl.

I know I've said it before, but these simple customised birthday t shirts are probably one of my smuggest presents of choice on the party front - cheap to make, personal, and super fast to sew (the one above was made within an hour of the party, as I'd forgotten to make it until then).

Whilst at the book shop, sucked in to the 3 for 2 offer (always good), we choose a couple of new books for at home. The Paper Dolls has got to be the best find we've had on this front in ages. An instant hit that has been read more times than I care to count over the weekend.

And, I couldn't resist the appeal of being like the nice mother in the book who sat and made paper dolls with her daughter. If you like a bit of sentimentality and a calm, satisfying (and free) cold weather activity to do off the back of it, then The Paper Dolls is the book for you. If you have small children, that is.

Saturday night was a friend's 40th - a lovely relaxed at home, bring something along kind of do. I had fun playing with a new cutter to make these chocolate cakes. And, some of them couldn't quite fit into the tin to take to the party...

...providing me with just the thing to go with a warming mug of tea now. And a ponder about the seeds we've just bought. Will the weather heat up enough to germinate these little seeds, I wonder, ready for a Blue Peter style sunflower competition (which you know will probably end in some gloating/sulking/arguments/sabotage).

Highlight of the day yesterday was probably the hour or so spent cutting out paper dolls for the girls to colour in. Really nice. Must do more of that sort of thing, and less of the running around doing jobs, nagging/shouting sort of thing I seem to do too much of.

They cooed over the (after thought) of a baby holding a teddy bear on the one I misjudged how long the paper needed to be, and so found a use for it. And then, of course, they all wanted one like that.

And now to open the enormous parcel of packing boxes and start filling them, in the hope all house move things go smoothly...

Bye bye old clothes - it's off to the charity shop you go...